


Growing Pains 2

by Niler



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-06-02 01:12:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6544357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niler/pseuds/Niler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>next chapter of Growing Pains</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For those who have read (or are following) the Long Time series here's the first chapter of Growing Pains 2. Won't make sense unless you're familiar with the universe
> 
> Find Growing Pains (1) here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4611975
> 
> and the series here: http://archiveofourown.org/series/365876
> 
> Lol this is just a means for me to re-iterate that I will NOT be archiving Fingermarks and it will be taken down on Friday (15th), so you get a little extra just so I can do that :)
> 
> I'll also (briefly) repost some of the tasters I posted last year from upcoming Ziam influenced novels. You'll be able to find me on Amazon (I just haven't decided which pen name I'll be using) so really I AM still writing Ziam just not /Ziam/ and not here. Oh and I'll be writing more in the Fingermarks universe (soon, but again not HERE)
> 
> later :))

 

Growing Pains 2

 

 

He knows he’s doing the wrong thing. He doesn’t need to examine Liam’s face or track the tension in his body to know. He did what he had to do, but he already understands that the best of several bad choices doesn’t translate to it being a good choice. And it isn’t; it’s not good at all.

It would be inaccurate to say he hadn’t thought it through; he certainly had, it was just that he couldn’t see how _not_ making the choice would have been the right thing to do.

All he can say is that it would have been nice if his dad hadn’t put him in the position to be forced into making that choice in the first place.

But blaming his dad, blaming his mum, his sisters, anyone else won’t help him to make Liam happy, help to take that look off his face.

It’s clear that Liam’s worried, but he won’t say a word, Zayn knows that. That’s not how Liam operates; he’ll suffer in silence rather than upset Zayn at all. Liam knows just how big this is, how important it is for Zayn to think he’s doing the right thing, so he’ll go along, do his best to assure Zayn all is well. It’s just that he’s not vey good at controlling the language of his body, and after 3 days together Zayn can see that he’s close to breaking.

It has been bad – where they’re living is a dive – and the men who are living in the house are dangerous, menacing. It’s clear to Zayn that should either of them let down their guard they’ll be snatched up like morsels on a plate.

And yeah that’s bad enough for him to contemplate for himself, but the thought of anything like that befalling Liam is untenable.

And should anything happen to him the blame would be laid squarely at his door.

He shouldn’t have taken him from his family. It was selfish.

He can spin all the tales he wants concerning his family and their restrictions but the truth is that he wants Liam to himself, wants him all day, every day and this was the only way to achieve that – so the moment the opportunity presented itself he took it, made it into something it need not have been and he knows it.

But he can’t see a way to back down, to backtrack, not when he took it to this level. What, after all, has changed? They are still likely to be forbidden to see each other, to have a relationship – even more so now – so what is he to say to Liam? That he was wrong to try to fight for him, fight for them; that he has scared him, made him uncomfortable and exposed to a rather terrifying side of life for no reason?

But then he’ll look at his face as they listen to the rampage that goes on every day – day and night – outside their door and know that he has to bite the bullet.

They don’t talk about the men who lurk outside their door, don’t talk about the fact that they never go outside; that Zayn would never allow Liam to set foot outside their room without him, but it’s a dark cloud hanging over them and at some point it will burst and he fears the deluge that will impact and alter everything they know.

 

**

 

The ‘landlord’ is a bastard. Zayn is quietly astonished that his contact in Bradford would even know a guy like that. True enough the guy wasn’t really aware of Zayn’s plans, didn’t know he planned to utilise these services on his _own_ behalf and it’s likely that he presumed this Jimmy guy was running a decent  enough enterprise. Still, it was a real wake up call, to understand that adults really had no more clue than you did about certain things, about the people they trusted.

And despite his shock at the nature of this enterprise and the venal quality of this individual he was nevertheless grateful that they’d been provided a roof over their heads with very few questions asked. Of course a _decent_ person would have been asking many, many questions, but Zayn couldn’t deny that he was thankful (in that respect, at least) that this Jimmy was far from being a decent person -  .

Jimmy was clearly _not_ his real name and all Zayn could say was that he assumed that he wasn’t a practising Muslim, despite probably making a show of being one.

He was getting shocked awakenings from every angle, really – and he really wasn’t happy about his loss of innocence. Liam wouldn’t understand this aspect, but the other aspects – which he certainly did understand – well, they were bad enough.

You didn’t have to be particularly worldly or jaded to understand when a man posed a danger to you, and yes he had encountered this sort of thing to a very limited degree before, but it had been nothing like this.

He had to find a way to get clear of this, get Liam to safety and there was only one way to do that.

Problem was he didn’t know if his pride could take the hit.

Well, in the end, it came down to the choice between his pride versus Liam’s well-being, which actually simplified things nicely, really.

**

 

“You know the rent is due tomorrow, don’t you?” Jimmy was a little younger than his dad. Probably hadn’t spent a single day in Pakistan, but he cultivated a Pakistani accent – around him and Liam anyway.

Zayn had heard him with the other guys in the building and could, therefore, attest that he was pure Black Country.

Zayn could only presume that he felt he’d get further if he cultivated a certain persona, but he was far too tired, far too stressed to ponder what the heck that could be and further just exactly how it benefited the guy.

The rent had been raised by 5 pounds – no warning, no excuse, no explanation. The guy was just _determined_ to take advantage.

Well, fine, that was more than fine. He’d paid him for the privilege of silence, for the roof over their heads, for the luxury of non-interference, but that was done with now. He wouldn’t get another penny.

“I know. I’ll have it for you first thing.”

The guy stares at him, a speculative glint in his eye, before turning his attention to Liam.

Liam’s sitting on the bed, watching them at the door, trying to look neutral, but failing.

He looks scared and miserable.

Zayn knows he’s scared of Jimmy, scared of all the guys there and this makes him so angry...

He starts to close the door, only pausing when Jimmy, a little startled, reflexively puts his palm against it, silently telling him to stop. “We’ve got some stuff to get on with.” He has had it drummed into him over and over that you treat your elders with respect and it is a hard habit to break. But there are some people who aren’t worthy of respect and to, therefore, gift them with your respect automatically signals the _loss_ of integrity.

Not going to do that, lose integrity, for the likes of ‘Jimmy’.

“Hold on a sec.” He’s dropped the accent. “How about you pay me the rent now? Not going to be around tomorrow.”

Zayn stares at him for a moment, mouth trembling.

This is so unfair. Thinks he can bully him because of his age, because of the strictures of his culture? Well, no, that is not going to happen.

“Okay, but we have to go out and get it.” He makes a gesture that he hopes encompasses all the shady, nefarious downright criminal elements of the situation in which they find themselves.

Of _course_ they’re not going to keep money on the premises.

Clearly the guy’s going to understand that.

Jimmy tries to stare him down, apparently trying to penetrate his head, _catch_ the lie, expose it. But Zayn’s no amateur; he’s been lying for years, no way this guy’s going to catch him out. So he meets him eye to-eye, confident that the innocence in his gaze comes across as completely guileless.

He wins the battle of wills.

“I want it by 7 tonight. I’ll be back. On the dot.” He makes a point of staring past Zayn at liam once more (it’s a threat; wordless, formless, but a threat all the same) before turning and walking away.

Zayn closes the door very firmly, present enough to know not to _slam_ it. It’s vital to keep Jimmy off guard, keep him believing they have no idea what a cruel, criminal predator he is and slamming doors and swearing is not the way.

Liam’s the first to speak.

“I thought he was from Pakistan!”

Zayn wants to smile – only Liam can do that; take the heat from him just by being Liam. “I know. I doubt he even knows what the capital city is!”

“I think he’s from Dudley,” he muses, apparently more captivated by the fact that Jimmy’s from the Black Country than that he’s a lying, money-grabbing criminal.

Zayn shrugs. “Is he? You all sound the same to me.” He’s scanning the room, calculating, working out logistics. “We need to go.”

Liam frowns. “Where?” He should be pleased they’re leaving but by now he’s probably expecting Zayn to haul him out of the frying pan straight into the blazing inferno.

And that makes Zayn’s heart clench.

He has let him down so badly.

But that’s over with.

He made a mistake and now he’s going to put it right.

No matter how much it hurts.

He looks at him. “Home.”


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

 

Liam has been talking for ages, hasn’t stopped since they sneaked out of the house.

Zayn knows he’s done the right thing, just by the level of excitement he can see in him.

Doesn’t make him feel all that much better, though.

If it weren’t for Liam he’d be crying - with mortification, hurt pride, in anticipation of the pain he’s going to feel once he sees his mother’s face again.

There is just no way this isn’t going to be really, really bad.

_He_ did it.

_He_ made the mistakes, not Liam, and no way Liam’s going to take any of the flak, so it’s all on him, then - and it is going to really sting.

First of all Aunty Karen; doesn’t know how he’s ever going to look her in the face and try to explain, justify what he did, and doesn’t know if he even should.

_How_ is she going to understand what was in his head?

He was wrong, he can see that now, wrong to think he had the right to do as he wanted to do, despite the fact that he isn’t and _can’t_ be responsible for anything major; wrong not to understand that it’s all on his parents, the burden shouldered by them (and for god reason, he sees now).

He’s just not strong enough to deal with the world as it actually is and it took almost hurting Liam, placing him in jeopardy to wake him up to that fact.

If his mum and dad ground him for ten years he’ll understand, take it like a little lamb.

Liam sneaks a hand in his, bringing him back to himself and when he looks at him, really looks he sees that he isn’t happy at all.

Oh.

Oh damn it.

 

**

 

There’s a park just down the road from Liam’s house and they sit there, an open bag of crisps on the bench between them.

They’re both nervous, both at pains to hide that from the other.

He has no idea _why_ they’re being so stupid, but then they haven’t really talked properly about this at all.

He told Liam his plan and Liam just went along with it, went along with all of it, at every stage. He never protested, not once, not about any of it so Zayn’s had to _divine_ what he thinks, how he feels and he isn’t sure he’s been doing a particularly good job.

“It’s cold,” he says inanely, silently counting the minutes till he has to get up off this bench and make the short trip to Liam’s home.

He loves Liam’s house, considers it his second home, but today it feels like the site of his upcoming trial and inevitable execution…

“It is a bit.” He hesitates and Zayn can clearly seeing him wondering whether he should put an arm around him, offer his jacket.

“I should get you home.”

Liam doesn’t say anything, Zayn doesn’t move.

This is so hard.

What’s Liam thinking?

Does he no longer trust him?

He’d have every right not to.

“Zayn.”

Zayn’s heart thumps hard; he just knows whatever he’s about to hear will hurt. Just knows it.

“Yeah?”

Liam blushes, looks away, checks to see if there’s anyone nearby.

It’s obvious, and a distant part of Zayn’s mind wonders if he knows how suspicious he looks to an onlooker, someone who, minding their own business a moment before would see this and start paying attention, convinced Liam was about to do something criminal.

He experiences genuine surprise that he has _any_ capacity for amusement at this stage.

“Love you.” Liam clears his throat, thrusts his hand into the bag of crisps and stuffs a handful in his mouth, turning his head to casually look at the ducks waddling back to the pond.

Zayn, open-mouthed, stares at his profile, asking himself for the thousandth time just when Liam will see fit to _stop_ surprising him.


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

As they near Liam’s house, Zayn can feel the adrenalin flowing through him

He wants flight, not fight, and he knows that he’s going to get the latter rather than the former, but there’s nothing he can do about it.

He won’t let Liam know how he’s feeling, though, needs to keep it together for his sake.

Should he have phoned, tried to soften the blow by reaching out first?

But that’s not his way; he’d rather grasp the nettle, let it sting and then be over with rather than sit and stare at the nettle knowing it’s going to abrade his flesh, draw blood, cause pain, immerse himself in the psychic feedback of anticipation.

It’s going to hurt but at least it’ll be over.

Of course it’ll then be on to the next – his mum, his dad…

And the hurt there is bound to last significantly longer, but there’s no way to avoid it, so the sooner it comes the better.

Liam’s been quiet for the past few minutes, and as they round the corner, he puts a hand on Zayn’s elbow. “Let me talk to mum.”

Zayn, surprised, looks to him. “Why?”

Liam shrugs, avoiding his eye. “Just let me.”

“No,” Zayn says firmly, seeing at once what he’splanning to do.

“You can’t stop me, Zayn. I only said, so you know.” He has that stubborn look on his face and Zayn knows that if he tries to argue he’ll almost certainly lose and in the process probably only end up making things worse.

“It’s my fault, I did it. You can’t pretend it was you.”

“I’m doing it,” he says and he’s getting angry now.

Zayn, angry himself says nothing, but lengthens his stride, trying to walk away from him.

Obviously that’s just stupid, since Liam can easily outwalk him, plus he’s motivated to get to his house before Zayn does.

At any other time he’d see the absurdity of it, but he’s in no mood to find any humour in his world at all.

“Liam,” he pleads, as Liam catches up and goes past him.

But Liam’s not going to listen, not going to stop; he’s going to do the thing that Zayn knows he will not be able to live with and he has no idea how to stop that from happening…

 

**

Liam has a key so of course he uses it. He opens the door, but waits for Zayn, still with the stubborn look on his face, pretty much daring him to argue.

Zayn wants to argue, opens his mouth to plead with him one last time but the lounge door’s opening and Aunty Karen’s poking her head out.

It’s probably a few seconds at most before she’s running into the lounge, arms open, but to Zayn it feels like time’s standing still, giving him way too much time to think.

Aunty Karen must know it was him who took her son away from his home, placed him in danger.

She’ll know it wasn’t Liam’s idea and Zayn has no idea how he’ll be able to look her in the face if he goes along with the lie.

She’s all over Liam, hugging the life out of him and he’s standing back, not quite knowing where to look, what to do.

He’s astonished when she pulls him into her embrace, raining kisses over _his_ face too.

He sinks into the comfort of her embrace, feeling tthe persistent prickle of tears.

He hadn’t known until just then how much he needed to be around an adult he trusts, with whom he feels safe and can barely contain the emotional flood he can feel waiting to pour forth.

“Zayn?”

Astonished, he looks up to see his mum at the lounge door, devoid of make-up, looking like she’s been crying for days and can hold it back no longer…

 

**

He and Liam have been sent to shower, and change their clothes, after which they’ll meet their mothers in the lounge.

He has no idea how his mum came to be there; she wasn’t interested in talking, only in hugging and kissing the life out of him.

He expects that once she gets her breath there’ll be questions a plenty.

Liam seems relaxed, as if it’s all sorted and while Zayn sort of gets it he sort of doesn’t.

Far as he’s concerned it’s not over, not even close.

He’s drying himself, mind wrestling with the upcoming meeting with his mum and Aunty Karen, and jumps a little when he feels Liam’s arms around him.

“It’s going to be alright, you know,” he’s saying, nuzzling Zayn’s wet hair.

Zayn’s still not used to this, not used to the way it feels to have him show physical affection and for a moment cannot find any words.

“Just let me do the talking.”

“No,” Zayn says, placing both hands on his. “We can’t lie, not with them both here. My mum knows it was me who did it. We can’t lie to them.”

“it won’t be lying.” He tightens his embrace. “Just let me say what I need to say. Okay?”

“Liam, don’t make me lie, man. Please.”

“Don’t worry. Just trust me.”

He says nothing, decides to simply bask in the pleasure of his embrace.

He doesn’t know what Liam plans to say, but he’s been asked to trust him and _that_ he will always do.

When they’re dressed they take a few moments for a long, silent embrace, then make their way downstairs.


	4. Chapter 4

 

Liam leads the way into the lounge.

Aunty Karen and his mum are sitting there, on the sofa, waiting for them.

They’ve both been crying and this tears him up inside, makes him feel like crying himself.

He meets his mum’s eyes and offers another silent apology, but Liam’s talking, shoulders stiff, stance stubborn and determined.

He hates this, hates everything about this, but knows that he can’t say or do anything that would make Liam look a fool.

If he’s decided to do this, despite Zayn’s objections then Zayn has no option but to follow his lead.

“Mum, Aunty Trisha, I know I was wrong to do what I done and I’m really sorry. It was me made Zayn come down and find us a place to stay. I knew if I asked him he wouldn’t feel right saying no and I kept badgering him until he said yes. I’m really sorry cos I put him in a bad position and I didn’t think what it would do to Aunty Trisha and the girls, not knowing where he was and what had happened and that. And I know you was really worried about me too, mum. I just didn’t t think about that at the time. Me and Zayn… it’s so hard for us not being able to see one another and I got really selfish and stupid, mum. I’m really sorry. I promise not to do anything like that again. Mum, I know you have to punish me and I deserve that, but please don’t blame Zayn for the stuff I did. I know he probably should just have kept saying no to me, but I did keep pushing really hard. I know we won’t be able to see each other for a while and I do deserve that, but... even though I know you’ll punish us, just don’t blame _Zayn_. I honestly can’t bear that, mum - not for something that was me all the way.”

Zayn, unable to look at anything or anyone while this speech goes on, seemingly with no apparent end in sight, simply stares at his feet, wondering how Liam can possibly think he’d be okay with this.

There’s the expected silence at this pack of lies. No way either of their mothers is going to believe a word of that pile of steaming bullshit.

And Zayn silently cringes.

“Zayn?” His mother, voice quiet, solemn.

“Yes mum?”

“You got nothing to say?”

Silently praying for guidance he takes an almost unconscious step forward, brain working, working out how to take the blame baclk on his shoulders without making a liar out of Liam.

His mum has a certain perception of Liam (the correct one) that there’s no way in the world he’d ever do anything so irresponsible.

Her son, on the other hand…

“Yeah. Sorry. I should have been more responsible. I had a lot of time to think it through and I didn’t, I just acted – reacted. And I definitely didn’t think of what this would do to you, dad and the girls.” He shot a quick, guilty glance at the silent Aunty Karen. “And Aunty Karen.” He swallows hard, feeling weak with embarrassment, guilt, but also with the knowledge that he still has to protect Liam, can’t admit to the responsibility he truly feels. Far as he’s concerned it’s all his doing, Liam the innocent dragged along in his wake and having to pretend otherwise is killing him.

How does Liam think this is okay?

“Do you have any idea how worried we all were? That note, Zayn, that tore me up inside. Sweetheart, if things were going so wrong why didn’t you just say something?” She seems to be addressing this equally to Liam.

“I got the wrong end of the stick, Aunty,” Liam puts in, preventing him from responding. “Something Uncle Yasser said made me think he was trying to stop me from seeing Zayn again and I panicked. I begged Zayn to solve it and he tried to, like I knew he would. An that’s why it’s my fault. I could have come to you, mum, asked you to talk it through with Aunty and uncle and I knew that, I just wanted to be with Zayn, to be together and that’s why I went to him instead. I knew what he’d do.”

Zayn, unable to help himself stares at him.

Is that how he sees it?

Had he really calculated it that way or is he only saying, thinking this in hindsight?

“Son,” his mother sighs, but she doesn’t seem angry or even upset anymore.

“I know, mum, and I am so, so sorry. I don’t even know how to make up for what I done.”

“Oh don’t worry, we’ll find a way.” She turns her attention to Zayn. “Sweetheart, I know you’ll understand if we say it’d be better if you and Liam didn’t see each other for a while. It’s not really punishment, but we’re going to have to sit down and talk things through and it’s better if you lads take break for a bit.” She looks like it’s killing her to say this and the guilt rips through him.

He silently nods, not trusting himself to speak.

Liam moves closer, offering the comfort of his warmth, his presence, but he neither speaks nor looks at Zayn.

Is this how it’s going to be from now on – knowing he’s there but unable to see, touch him?

They’d made such progress and now because of him they were worse than before, thrust back into those dark days of missing him, fearful of never again getting the chance to see him.

What had he done?

“Zayn, get your stuff together, we’ll get the next train back.” His mum isn’t like Aunty Karen; she doesn’t let things go, doesn’t have the capacity to simply move on, so he knows that even if the Paynes eventually decide they’ve punished him and Liam enough his mum will hold out for quite a bit longer, which means the length of punishment is essentially down to her.

Aunty Karen may well believe Liam’s version of events. His mum doesn’t; she does, after all, know Zayn well and can easily see just how much of a Zayn enterprise this had been.

The journey home’s going to be awful and then after that there’s his father to face.

He has no idea how he’s going to face his dad.

“Yes, mum.” He turns and walks out the room, not daring to look at Liam or make any indication that he might be waiting on him, waiting for him to follow him.

He can’t afford to do anything at all to upset his mum right now.

He tries so hard not to cry, but as he runs up the stairs to Liam’s bedroom the salty bitterness wells up from deep inside and spills over, weakening him, blinding him until all he can do is kneel on the rug next to Liam’s bed and let it take him.

He knows he isn’t being quiet, is crying harder than he has for years and wants to stop, wants to hold it all inside, but his body isn’t obeying him.

Even when he feels Liam beside him, feels his strong arms around him he can’t seem to stop, crying like his heart had finally broken into pieces that maybe not even Liam’s arm


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, don't know how much longer I'll be around. Sorry to leave it like this, but hopefully I'll get the opportunity to add some more

Liam wants to do something stupid but Zayn won’t let him.

Even though he feels lower than he’s ever felt he is still aware that this won’t – can’t – last forever; that the other end of the tunnel is closer to the light and once he gets to there _will_ see said light.

That is literally the way it is and he does know this.

Yes, right now feeling sorry for himself is really high on the list of things to do but it’s not _top_ of the list. Top of the list is, as it always has been, as it always will be, protecting, safeguarding Liam.

So getting himself away from Liam, prevent further harm coming his way _because_ of him is what needs to happen right now.

Liam will argue – does argue – but Zayn knows that for once he’s being completely selfless.

So far nothing he’s done when it comes to Liam has been anything but selfish and self-serving, but this, this is where it ends.

If Liam cries he doesn’t even know what he’ll do, so he resolves to simply leave before that happens.

The longer he leaves it, the more they talk about things, the greater chance there’ll be that Liam will cry.

He kept himself together while Zayn fell apart because that’s him all over – he’d never be weak when Zayn needed his strength.

But now, Zayn needs him to be weak, to let himself go.

And he can’t be there for it.

It would kill him.

He’ll finish washing his face and go straight downstairs so Liam won’t get a chance to say a private goodbye.

He hates himself for it, but that’s the only way.

 

**

He’s trying not to cry because he knows his mum, knows she’d cave, hold him, comfort him – and he will not put that on her.

She is _entitled_ to her anger and he won’t manipulate or compromise her with his tears.

But he really, really needs to cry…

 

**

The journey’s really bad and he honestly has no idea how he even managed to find a way to sleep through the middle of it, only waking when they’re 20 minutes out.

His mum is staring out the window, face set, body stiff, radiating discomfort.

She _hates_ trains and rarely takes train journeys.

Yet one more reason for hating himself.

They’ve barely exchanged two words since leaving the Paynes and he can only imagine the explosion there’s going to be once she gets him in the privacy of their home.

Hs life is not going to be worth living.

His dad…

No idea what he’s going to say or do to him but it’s going to be bad, that much he knows.

His mum turns to look at him and says absolutely nothing.

He closes his eyes and tries to go back to sleep.

 

**

“Your dad’s on his way.” She let him know this as they’re turning the corner into their street.

Zayn’s heart starts thumping. “Was he working?”

“With you missing?” Her voice is tight and her mouth a stern line in her pale face. “No, love, he hasn’t been to work.” Her tone is almost vibrating with irony.

And that says it all.

The urge to turn and run is almost overwhelming.

But he has nowhere to turn, nowhere to run, no fight left in him.

He is wrong in every single way that matters.

How can he run from himself?

 

**

The girsl aren’t around – they’ve been staying with Aunty Perveez while Zayn was occupying his parents’ every waking thought.

She doesn’t need to say this, he knows.

“Can I go to my room?”

She looks at him in silent contemplation for a moment, before nodding and turning away.

It would seem that she either doesn’t trust herself to speak to him yet or has nothing to say right now.

Either scenario makes his belly cramp.

How long will this last and just _how_ much will it hurt?

He makes his slow way up the stairs to his room, wondering if there’ll be any comfort to derive from the familiar surroundings.

He suspects not.

 

**

He hears his dad come in and sits there in frozen, sweating anticipation for the read of his feet up the stairs and then to his door.

But they’re not coming.

He can hear their voices, low and ongoing, but his mum and dad aren’t coming to see him.

The phone rings and he sees that it’s Liam. and closes his eyes. That is the last thing he needs - not right now; no way can he think of him on top of everything else going on right now…

He lets it go to voicemail.

Liam doesn’t leave a message.

Distracted by this he isn’t aware that they’ve come up the stairs and it’s only when he hears his dad’s voice and the knock at his door that he realises just how unprepared he is.

“Come in.” His voice is trembling, cracking under the pressure of trying to keep it all at bay – the fear, the guilt, the tears.

They’re both there, his mum just behind his dad.

His dad stands there without speaking, just looking at him and Zayn though can see the tears in his eyes, he doesn’t come further than the doorway. “Zayn, your mum’s told me what you said and I think we both know that’s just not good enough.”

“Dad, I am so sorry-”

“I know you are, but like I said, it’s not good enough. We brought you up better than that. You know you done wrong so I’m not gonna beat a dead horse, but we can’t let this go.” He takes a deep breath and Zayn immediately knows it’s going to bad and tries to brace himself. “Me and your mum have decided it’s best to send you to stay with my cousin for a while.”

Trying not to hyperventilate he silently nods.

He can’t find his voice, no chance.

“It’ll be for a few months. We’ll sort it with the school and everything.”

He nods. “Okay.”

“Sweetheart it’s for the best.” His mum is looking really guilty so he knows it is _really_ bad.

“I know.”

No-one is speaking and he’s simply waiting for the other shoe to drop. But it doesn’t appear that either of them plan to be the ones to drop it.

Clearing his throat he finds voice to ask: “Which cousin, dad?”

“Shamina.”

Zayn frowns. He doesn’t know her. “I don’t-“

“She’s not strictly a cousin, more of an Auntie – your dad’s – than a cousin.”

“Okay.”

“She’s agreed to take you in for a little while.” She can barely look at him.

“She lives in Karachi,” his dad quietly informs, staring intently at his face. “We’ll get you there by next Friday. Everything’s sorted on her end, now it’s up to us.” He doesn’t sound happy or resolved, just resigned and Zayn is once again left feeling that he has let every single person in his life down – badly – hurt them, made them take actions they wouldn’t otherwise have taken.

He isn’t even going to try to plead his case – he has no case. He’s let Liam down so badly.

Now Liam won’t see him again and probably won’t even get a chance to speak to him while he’s away.

It’s pretty clear that by sending him to Karachi they’re pretty much letting him know that any thought of being with Liam is completely forbidden.

He doesn’t know what they think the exile will accomplish, but clearly they think it will accomplish _something_ and that scares the hell out of him.


End file.
